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Saturday, August 31, 2013

I swear, I'm really trying to not get into the habit of telling you all about my life as I'm pretty sure it resembles your life and your friends lives and basically every teenager I know lives, but writing is like a good friend to me, and when something goes wrong you vent to your friend, right?

So, ever since I updated you all on my first day of school, I've had a less than happy week. Things aren't really going my way. My tear bank has depleted and that feeling of disappointment and regret and other sad adjectives lingers in my stomach. It's gut wrenching and stings madly like a bee anytime my thoughts wander back to what's stressing me, and I hate hate hate it.

I've been doing a lot of praying this week. I've been doing a lot of venting this week. I've been doing a lot of crying this week. It's been a little less than pleasant (ok, maybe a lot less than pleasant). And I'm slowly recovering from the stress that nobody seems to understand.

It's been one of those weeks that everybody has once in a blue moon. And slowly but surely, my problems will resolve and in three weeks life will be sunshine and lollipops and I'll laugh about getting so stressed out about such a silly thing.

And I just want to clear up that it's not girl drama or that kind of mess that teenage girls always seem to get in to. I literally made it through middle school and only had one big "problem" with my friends, and I'm currently into my second year of high school and have yet to get involved into anything that didn't take more than ten minutes and an apology from both parties to resolve. I just get tired of hearing that girls are so much drama and blah blah blah. A majority of my friends are girls and we sort through our rare problems easily. And not to bash anyone who deals with drama on a regular basis, but I'd just like to let the world know that there are some girls who are able to glide through their teen years with limited girl issues.

I'm sorry for the promised post that's sitting under the drafts tab still, but I'm just sorting through my disorganized life at the moment, trying to figure out what's really important to me.

Monday, August 26, 2013

I don't usually tell you all about my day at school, nor do I go into detail of what I ate and who I saw and tell you about people who irritated the hell out of me by only describing them as "S" or "M" instead of their real names, as I'm not really about that life. And I'm not about to start either.

But today my first day of Sophomore year came and went. It was the last of three "first days" that would be spent at home and not far away in the distant lands of college. And to be honest, I usually enjoy first days. I get excited and make myself look decent and actually bother taking notes and writing down my homework, but today I was absolutely dreading. And now, I'm left feeling all sad because why don't I feel all happy and giddy like a first grader? What happened to all that excitement of having something to do during the day and getting one step closer to the illusion filled adult life that teenagers have?

I saw on Twitter how people talked and talked and talked about how much they were loathing the first day and all the "Where did summer go" tweets were polluting my timeline. Which by the way was a welcoming break from the, "What the shit are you doing Miley Cyrus" tweets, which aside from the fact that I felt like I was in a nightclub watching a stripper, I'd like to give a big kudos to Miley Cyrus and her "I'm doing whatever the hell I want to" attitude.

Back to regular programming.

All those tweets (the school related ones not the crotch thrusting, teddy bear dancing, Miley Cyrus ones), should have made me feel a little more normal as I know that it's not uncommon to dislike school, but if anything, they made me feel worse. I'm trying to break away from the typical "I'm like everybody else" high school attitude. And therefore my school loving attitude was clearly working for me, but there I was hoping my eight hours of sleep would feel like an eternity, prolonging my departure to hell aka school.

But whatevs. It's done and over with. And it's not like I have a choice of whether I want to go back.

P.P.S. After re-reading this post, I noticed several cuss words. I try not to be about that life either, but I guess the land of explicit language aka high school has gotten to me today. But to be honest, I didn't make this blog to just turn around and censor what I say, so if I'm thinking it, I'm going to say it.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

I really wish blogger allowed you to use emojis because the title of this post would be that one that has two big streams of tears coming out of its (are emojis boys or girls?) eyes and flowing down he/she's face and it's eyebrows are all slanted and distressed and just pitiful and sad-like.

Anyways, back to more pressing matters.

Life is starting to pick up.

My weekdays are filling up with school and soccer and dance and church and homework. I'll actually have more to do in life than sit on the couch and blog and watch reruns of Grey's Anatomy and play Candy Crush on my phone. The days will gradually become the same routine and the weeks will start flowing until I stop and realize that oh my hot lanta it's already December.

And why am I telling you this?

Because from now on, there are going to be a lot less blog posts. And most likely a lot of the posts will be lacking pictures as writing comes very easily to me and I can do it in the car and on my phone where taking pictures requires the right setting and is a lot more time consuming.

I'm aiming on writing one post a week, but I can promise you I'll be trying so hard to do more than one. And I can also promise that you may not here from me for weeks at a time. I go through super busy stages and then super slow stages in terms of school work and life in general and usually my blogging patterns reflect that.

Let's just say I'll be very busy living life.

And if anybody out there would like to do a guest post please please please let me know. Hit me up. Shoot me an email. Leave me your blog's URL. Do what you gotta do.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

August is the universal time to go back to school. I saw on Twitter where somebody described August like the Sunday of summer. Summer isn't exactly over yet—but school is just around the corner. And with back to school comes the commercials and advertisements for new jeans and the cutest little binders and kids having a word fight on the playground over clothes shopping ("Yo momma is so fiscally responsible she got all dat on free layaway").

And then I see bullying commercials, and to be honest, they kind of suck. Not in terms that they make me feel all bad inside, but the way they depict the scenes and just the overall production of it is inaccurate and just suck-y. It's not that I think that bullying doesn't happen, but the way they depict it, is the type of bullying you would see on a Lizze McGuire episode, not in real life. And to be honest, I don't really like bullying commercials in general. It's like the government thinks they can fix one of the biggest issues in teenager's lives by a simple commercial that's similar to the videos we are required to watch during sex-ed—outdated and unrealistic. And we might as well throw stupid out there too.

But I've seen bullying happen and I've even been bullied. I know it happens and I know it hurts, but dammit, these silly commercials aren't helping anything.

I recently read a beautiful letter written by a mom with a son who has Autism, that you can read here. I feel it's aimed more towards elementary aged kids, which I totally get as they can be just as cruel, if not crueler because they don't understand things like Autism or Down Syndrome. But I want ya'll to read it and hear what I have to say as well.

I have a good friend with Autism. When I was in second grade up until fourth or fifth, I used to ride home with him and stay at his house while my mom tutored kids at her school. We've still continued to be good friends as we've grown into high schoolers and I've seen him have to deal with things he shouldn't.

I've heard people talk about him being stupid or even retarded (and I HATE HATE HATE that word) because he couldn't grasp onto the same concepts as us or because he went to special classes. I've interjected into countless conversations to let kids know that he's not stupid or unintelligent, but he has Autism. Most of the misunderstandings came from kids who didn't realize that my friend had as the mom in the letter called it, Super Powers. And it wasn't always me. On other occasions I would open my mouth getting ready to explain my friends circumstance only to be cut off by another person who was already saying what I was about to. You have no idea the joy in my heart that would come when I'd see other people stand up for him.

When we entered middle school and high school, he started playing on the football team. He didn't get much of any playing time at first, but now he plays a good bit on our JV team. A few weeks into high school, I heard something really heart breaking from a kid on the football team. He was telling me all about how the older kids (specifically the varsity players), would pick on my friend. They would take his clothes while he was in the shower and when he got out and walked over to his locker to retrieve his clothing, they'd roll up his shirt and pants and whip him with it. And they did some other things that I really don't want to go into detail about. I asked if anybody ever said anything to the boys, but the kid told me they were all scared of the older boys, which honestly, was completely understandable.

But I was still devastated.

My friend doesn't stick up for himself because his mind twists events like this into being his fault. I knew he wasn't going to tell his mom about it and honestly I was at loss. I was a freshman and I couldn't go tell senior boys that I barely knew that they needed to quit picking on my friend without completely disrupting the totem pole of high school. Eventually I got some of the boys on the JV team to keep my friend out of harm's way, but I still couldn't believe what was happening to him.

My friend kind of feels like my own child, but even better because if I was his mom, it'd be pretty embarrassing if I was looking out for him like I am, but instead I'm just seen as a good friend. I'm not made fun of because I stick up for him. I'm not bullied because I stick up for him. I'm not hurt because I stick up for him.

And I just want to urge you to help kids like my friend because obviously these bullying commercials aren't doing anything more than throwing money out the car window. You need to understand that you won't be made fun of because you're sticking up for someone who isn't able to. You need to hear real stories from real people.

Monday, August 19, 2013

I might even go to say that it's overflowing. Like the I poured way too much soda in my cup and the fizz is flowing out and dripping down the sides of the glass and I have to take five really quick sips kind of overflowing.

My very first guest post was published on Friday and it was so exciting. Like seriously, go check it out and also stick around and internet stalk the blog as well. I seriously enjoy reading Miss ALK's blog, A Southern Belle in Training, and I'm pretty sure I've thanked her like thirty times for allowing me to do this (thanks AGAIN).

Also I spent Saturday and Sunday up in Asheville, which by the way is probably by far one of my favorite places to visit. I've seriously considered moving there when I'm older. I just love all the hipsters walking the streets in their Chacos and the way their Earthy vibes just radiate off them making you want to quit life and go backpacking through the Appalachian Mountains. And I love going to all the stores that sell all natural soaps and hammocks and organic candy. Not to mention I did all this in between soccer game after soccer game.

It was just one of those weekends where everything went fabulously and perfect and made me went to scream off a mountain top about how wonderful life was.

It was a great three days to be alive.

And I hope you all had a fabulous weekend and Monday and I'm sending you good, Earthy vibes for a fabulous Tuesday.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

I wrote a guest post last week and I'm expecting it to be published some time in the coming days. And with this guest post being published, I'm expecting an increase in blog traffic for the days following. And with this increase, I wanted to have an amazing post to be the first thing people saw when they visited my blog. So as soon as I completed my guest post, I began writing another. And when that one didn't suit me, I started another. And then another when that post fell dead. And then another. And another.

I wrote five previous post before this one hit me.

Who knows, maybe this one won't be the one either. Maybe I'll write five more after this one before my brain has an epiphany and bursts out an incredible post that will make people want to stick around at this old blog of mine.

But all these feelings of never being satisfied over a simple blog post is a common characteristic of my life. Things are never good enough for me. That 96 on my English test mocks me because I was so close to a hundred. If I had just answered one more question right it could've been a 98. And yet the kid next to me who just made an 80 is completely satisfied—elated even—because he passed the test. Then I'm left feeling selfish because I'm sure this kid would give his first born for my grade and here I am whining over an A.

Honestly, writing this blog is helping me realize who I am. I mean, who needs to have a crazy one year soul seeking journey through Brazil to find their true inner being, when you could just start a blog? When I reread old posts, I notice little things I say or mention and I see how that translates to who I am. And sometimes, when I sit down to write a blog post, I say what I really am thinking and it's crazy how one thing turns into another and I start confessing about how nothing is ever good enough for me.

I highly recommend starting a blog, whether you be a teenager or an adult because you'll really start to find out who you really are.

And I don't really like the name of this blog post, because it makes it sounds like because nothing will ever be good enough for you, you then have to settle. Or you have to go with the next best thing. Or you have to be okay with choosing your second choice. Or going with your plan B.

Because, I'm not one to settle, which seems contradictory considering that I claim that nothing will ever be just right for me. But the things that I'm not okay with or the things that I don't think are good enough, are things that I do myself. It's not that I think that all my friends aren't good enough for me or that the surprise party that my parents gave me wasn't good enough for me, it's the blog post that I wrote. Or the outfit that I picked out. Or the grade on the history test that I made. Or the picture that I took.

It's a feeling that goes hand in hand with being a perfectionist. (Which the by the way, I hate that word.)

So you have to remind yourself sometimes that you're doing the best that you can do. You are trying as hard as you can. You couldn't have done any better on that English paper. What's done is done.

And sometimes you have to bring your goals to a realistic level. Remind yourself that you're only in high school or that you're only one person. There is only so much one can do and there's nothing wrong with doing more than is expected, but sometimes you just can't do it all. Try not to set the bar too high or you'll only fall to the ground empty handed.

Monday, August 12, 2013

I love when they slowly enter in the afternoon. I love when there's the unexpected crack of thunder in the middle of the night. I love when they solemnly start with a low rumble on a Monday morning. I love short summer storms. I love long, hurricane like storms.

I love them all.

And coincidentally I'm writing this in the middle of a fabulous thunderstorm that seems to be lingering longer than the forecast expected. The pounding of rain is mixed in with my favorite iTunes play list, the current rhythm of my writing.

I'm not sure why I have a thing for storms. My Twitter feed is full of people who currently can't contain themselves in the current state of our North Carolina weather. They're freaking out over every flash of lightening and yet I feel sorry for them because they don't understand what I feel.

Thunderstorms remind me of something that's bigger than myself. They remind me that there's someone out there controlling this big mess of weather. They make me feel like a little child in a way that's not adequate for me to explain through my words.

When I see the low grey clouds in the distance, slowly crawling towards my house, I'll turn off all the lights and sit on the couch with the faint glow of the TV staring back at me. And I'll wait for the tinge of fear that accompanies every flash of lightening that lights up my darkened house. I'll watch the rain slide down the window like ten year olds on water slides, racing to see who can get to the bottom first.

I've come to the realization that thunderstorms are under appreciated. They're seen as these evil little things that ruin plans and scare little kids, but I'm working to bring attention to the beautiful little things they are. And I really wish I could take a decent picture of the rain with my iPhone. I wish I could hold it up to the sky and you could clearly depict each circle of water coming down to Earth. I wish I had the patience and fast enough camera to capture a bolt of lightening. But I can't, so bear with me.

So next time you hear a storm approaching, don't go hide under the covers and complain to social media. Listen intently to the combination of rain and wind and flashes of light and deafening sounds. Look closely at the way the rain falls to your own piece of Earth and the way the water lingers on the flowers and grass. Go outside and smell the after rain scent. And maybe it's something you have to learn to love, but I guess that means there's hope for everyone to see the beauty.

Thursday, August 8, 2013

It's been a busy week and things have been very quiet on the blog. Almost too quiet. But in reality, I've been writing two new posts like a mad woman. One will be my very first guest post (more on that later) and the other is a post that I hope I one day have the guts to hit the publish button (more on that later too).

But to deny all suspicions, I haven't fallen off the end of the Earth.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

It's about that time of the year. Back to school commercials are playing, tax free weekend is about to commence, and I've already gotten a phone call from my school to come pick up my schedule.

Sigh.

Another summer is almost finished.

I'm not gonna lie, I enjoy picking out new school supplies and getting all organized and buying new clothes. I like to call it before school nesting. You go on a mad hunt to find all the necessary things and promise yourself that you're actually going to write down your homework assignments and you're going to keep your locker and all your binders super organized. You plan out your outfits for the first couple of days, you intend on actually eating breakfast and making your hair look great and not forgetting to brush your teeth because you slept in ten extra minutes and you have to leave RIGHT NOW.

In your mind, all you see is a clean slate ahead of you. It's the perfect time to start something new, do things right, and stop getting that feeling in the middle of the year where you wish you had done things differently.

But no matter how many times you guarantee yourself that you'll stick to your plan, your old routines start to resurface. It's a viscous cycle. Old habits die hard.

Every year, I tell myself how I'm going to do things differently. And every year, whether it's the day after school starts or even five months after school starts, I go back to my old ways. I choose sleep over how I look. I quit writing down my assignments and leave it to my brain to remember everything. I procrastinate on my book report and finish it at one in the morning the night before it's due.

And all that before school nesting—all that planning and organizing—falls to the wayside.

Once again, like every other year, I'm making a list of things that I swear to myself I'll actually follow through on. And honestly, in years past, I have kept many of these things going for quite some time before giving up. I once picked out my clothes for the entire week every Sunday for a good six or seven months in like eighth grade (I was a little OCD and I still am lol). And you have no idea how much time that saved me, not to mention last year I repeatedly sat in my room in my bra and underwear for ten minutes without the faintest idea of what I wanted to wear, wishing I had picked out my clothes the night before because I had to leave the house in ten minutes.

This year, I actually want to pick my clothes out at least the night before and quit procrastinating on every project I'm handed and have my binder that I shove all papers into—important or not—cleaned out and organized at the end of every week.

And maybe this year I might actually follow through on all these wonderful plans.